


Holovid

by lexwing



Series: Children of the Force [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Yoda Acquisition, Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family History, Gen, Parent Han Solo, Parents Han and Leia, Young Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24611866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexwing/pseuds/lexwing
Summary: Summary: In which Han Solo’s sense of humor puzzles Baby Yoda. Pt. 4 of Children of the Force.
Relationships: C-3PO & R2-D2, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker/Original Female Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi & Satine Kryze
Series: Children of the Force [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601830
Kudos: 51





	Holovid

**Author's Note:**

> I loved the idea of the Child going from hanging out with his dad, who rarely talks, to being around someone like Han Solo. So here it is. This one chronologically takes place at roughly the same time as the original “Children of the Force”. But if you feel at all lost you may want to read all entries in this series for context.

The Child had been learning a lot about humans lately.

He knew, for instance, that they came in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors, more so than a lot of other species in the universe.

He knew that some, like his father and Amana Kryze, who was caring for him until his father could return, wore helmets and armor. Some did not. 

He’d never seen his father without his helmet, true. However, the Child was smart enough to know there would be a human face under there somewhere. Not that the Child cared. He loved his father either way.

Others humans, like his friend Ben Solo and his family, wore no helmets at all. They instead chose to go about with their hair showing. The Child particularly liked Ben’s mother’s hair, which was long, and dark, and twisted up into all sorts of elaborate shapes when she went out of the house. 

Sometimes Leia Organa-Solo would gently comb the Child’s hair for him after he’d had a bath. She’d hum songs to him as she worked. 

He didn’t have much hair to speak of, certainly not enough to make any pretty braids or curls. Truth be told, that made him a bit sad. Still, the Child loved it. 

* * *

Humans each moved differently, too. 

His father and Amana both moved like Mandalorians: carefully, deliberately, with a minimum of jostling and an ability to stay still for unnervingly long periods of time. 

Leia and her brother Luke Skywalker also moved with some care. It wasn’t with the precision of a Mandalorian, but, then, the Force moved smoothly around them in a way it didn’t for the Child’s father or for Amana.

* * *

Ben’s father, Han Solo, was more of a puzzle. He was really tall, and really loud, and had a tendency to make big, expressive gestures with his large hands. He had messy brown hair and a presence that seemed to fill a room even though, as far as the Child could tell, Solo wasn’t the least bit Force sensitive.

Solo’s laugh had a way of echoing around spaces. The Child found that fascinating. 

After staying with the family for a few months, he had begun to understand why Ben was so sad whenever Solo was gone. The elegant apartment on Coruscant always seemed smaller and emptier for Solo’s absence, like the sun had set and would not rise again until he returned.

* * *

“Hiya, short stuff,” Han Solo told his young son Ben as he swung him up into his arms.

“Dad! You’re back early!” Ben cried, having nearly tackled his father as he came through the door.

“Told you I would be,” Solo chuckled. He held Ben at a slight distance, pretending to peer at him. “Man, you’ve gotten big! How old are you again? Ten?”

Ben laughed. “I’m almost six, Dad. You know that. You’ve only been gone for a week.”

“Six, oh, yeah, right,” Solo said with a laugh, setting his son down again. He glanced over to where the Child was sitting next to the Mandalorian woman.

The Child thought about it for a moment, and then gamely held up his arms, too.

Solo laughed again and picked up the Child, though much more carefully than he had Ben.

“Hey, there, you little womp rat,” Solo told him.

The Child smiled. That was what his own father called him. He liked having a nickname.

Solo set him back down on the sofa. 

“Amana,” he said politely.

“Solo,” she said in response. She’d taken off her helmet and gloves, but the rest of her armor was still on.

“Looks like Luke put you to work making dinner,” Solo observed, nodding at the pot of fresh beans in her lap. She was removing the inedible outer shells.

“He did.”

“Hmm. Want an apron?”

“No.”

“Ok then. Good talk.” Solo rolled his eyes a bit as he turned towards the adjoining kitchen space.

The Child jumped down from the couch and toddled after him.

“Hiya, Luke. You got kitchen detail, huh?” Solo said as he leaned against the doorway.

Skywalker looked up from the cooktop briefly. “Hi, Han. Yep. How were the races on Tantos 6?”

“Good, good. Lots of talent out there this season.” Solo rubbed a large hand across the back of his neck. “So, uh, Luke, how did you get her to…” He gestured vaguely across the room at Amana.

“I asked for her help. She has to eat, too, you know.”

“Hmm. Very domestic, the two of you.”

Luke shot him a warning glance. “Don’t start, Han.”

“What? She’s been here, I dunno, four months now? It’s nice that the two of you get along.”

“You’re as bad as Leia,” Skywalker said with exasperation. “Speaking of whom, she said to start dinner without her. The Senate session is running late tonight. She did say she had something to show us later, though. A surprise.”

“Not sure I like the sound of that,” Solo grumbled.

“Oh, General Solo, you have returned!” C3PO cried as he came into the room, R2D2 on his heels. “I am pleased to report that Master Ben has been making excellent progress on his lessons, and that Senate negotiations with the Mirx are going very well indeed, and…”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Goldenrod.”

The droid caught sight of the Child standing by Solo’s feet.

“Oh, dear me, you shouldn’t be wandering about,” he scolded. He reached down with his metal arms and picked up the Child.

The Child squirmed a bit. Droids were really rather lumpy, he had always found. Not great for cuddling.

“You can set him in the high chair, Threepio,” Luke told him. “We will be eating in a few minutes anyway.”

“Yes, Master Luke.” Threepio carried the Child through the kitchen and into the dining space on the other side. From there, a hallway led to the bedrooms.

“This was Master Ben’s highchair, you know,” the droid blathered as he sat the Child in his seat at the table.

The Child knew that, of course. Threepio mentioned that at nearly every meal.

“Here is a spoon for you to use,” the droid continued. “No eating with your hands, now—that’s considered very rude in most human cultures.”

“He knows, Threepio,” Ben told him as, following his uncle’s instructions, he dumped the rest of the needed cutlery on the table and sorted it by place. “I’m not sure Mandalorians care, though.”

“Nonsense, Master Ben. Miss Amana eats with a knife and fork.”

“Don’t call me that,” Amana said shortly as she set the bowl of fresh beans on the table.

“I do apologize, Miss Kryze.”

“That’s actually worse, not better.”

“Oh, dear, I have offended you again: I do apologize! I know Mandalorian culture has very strong beliefs about names. I believe it was the Mandalorian warlord Cyryl the Bold who, in the days of the Old Republic, said…”

“Threepio, you probably don’t need to lecture her about what Mandalorians do and do not believe,” Luke corrected as he brought the rest of the meal into the dining room.

“Since, you know, she is one,” Solo added wryly.

“But, General Solo, etiquette and protocol demand…”

R2 interrupted the taller droid with a loud tweeting sound.

“There’s no need to be rude, R2.”

The short droid retorted with what sounded like a raspberry. 

Ben laughed out loud as he slid into a chair next to the Child.

“R2! What has gotten into your circuits this evening? Such language! Why, anyone would think…”

The Child tuned them out and turned his attention to the plate of food Skywalker put before him.

After all, next to his father, and his friend Ben, dinner was the Child’s favorite thing.

* * *

They were just finishing eating when the Child sensed Leia Organa-Solo’s return. It was a light rippling in the Force, like water running over the pebbles in a stream.

He, and Skywalker, and Ben all exchanged a look.

It was sometimes rather fun, being with other Force-sensitives. Like knowing secrets nobody else knew.

“Hello, everybody!” Leia called breezily as she came through the door. She kissed her husband and son before taking the empty seat at the table. She waved away the plate Threepio offered. “I grabbed a quick bite to eat during the break,” she confessed. 

“Where’s the surprise, Mom?” Ben demanded around a mouthful of food.

His mother shot him a stern look.

Ben swallowed quickly. “Sorry, Mom. The surprise?” He repeated.

“Just a minute, Ben,” she laughed. “Let me catch my breath. Oh, it’s good to be home!”

She exchanged a long look with her husband and smiled gently before turning to her brother.

“Luke, thank you and Amana for handling things here. Every time I think I’m going to get a day off…”

“That’s all right, Leia,” Luke said quickly. “The Senate is important, too.”

The Child couldn’t help but notice the way the corners of his friend Ben’s mouth turned down a bit on hearing this. The Child knew Leia Organa-Solo was often called away. Indeed, if he, Luke, and Amana had not been hiding out here from the Child’s pursuers, Ben would have likely been alone all day in the apartment with only the two droids for company.

The Child thought for a moment about his father, currently leading whatever danger was following them away to the other side of the universe. He could feel through the Force that his father was alive and well. Yet he still chewed on the edge of his spoon a bit anxiously, hoping his father would be able to return soon.

“I brought home an old holovid,” Leia now confessed with a smile. “The archivists working on the Imperial salvage project found bits and pieces of it and put it together for me.”

“A holovid?” Ben rolled his eyes, looking for a moment just like his father. “Boring!”

“Not ‘boring,’ Ben—it’s history,” Leia corrected. She pulled a data chip out of her pocket and fed it into R2’s databank. “Shall we all go into the living room and watch it?”

“You mean they actually found something in that charred mess the Empire left behind?” Han Solo asked idly as they took their seats in the larger room.

Ben picked up the Child and set him in his lap. The two boys often watched holovids together like this.

The Child loved holovids. He and Ben had agreed they both loved the adventure ones the best, with space ships and blasters and battles between good and evil. Once, Ben had even shown the Child a holovid that was supposed to be about Luke Skywalker. The actor playing him had looked nothing like Luke and the plot had been so melodramatic the two boys had ended up rolling around together on the floor laughing.

“I asked them to see if they could find anything on Duchess Satine Kryze, and they came up with this.” Leia glanced apologetically over at Amana. “I remember my father telling me about her and I’ve always been curious. I thought you might like to see it, since you’re both part of the same clan.”

Amana just shrugged. “I never knew her. It’s fine.”

R2 turned on his projector and after a moment the bluish tint of a holovid appeared. It was of a pretty woman, older than Amana was now, giving a speech on some kind of wide balcony or palazzo. Her robes were elaborate, as was her hair style.

“Sorry there’s no audio,” Leia apologized. “The archivists said it was a miracle they could even salvage the image.”

Ben set the Child down so he could kneel closer to the image. “She doesn’t look much like you,” he told the Mandalorian. “But it’s hard to tell with the funny hair.”

“I think part of that is a headdress,” Leia corrected. “Formality used to be a big thing in Republic politics.”

“Whatever she’s saying, the folks around her look pretty convinced,” Luke observed as the camera pulled back, showing a small crowd of people on either side of the Duchess and a larger crowd around the cameraperson. 

“She’ll be speaking of peace,” Amana said quietly. “That was her life’s work. She wanted a peaceful Mandalore, one that had a good relationship with the Republic.”

“Did she get close?” Luke asked.

“Very close, yes. Then she died.”

“Ben, look!” Leia was pointing to a tall man to the left of the Duchess. “There is your grandfather, Bail Organa! The Duchess must have been addressing the Senate here on Coruscant when this was recorded.”

The Child watched as Leia touched her fingers to the corners of her eyes, as if brushing away tears. Solo laid a gentle hand on her knee.

Ben was too interested in the video to notice the tears. “He was really tall,” the boy observed.

Leia laughed. “Yes. Yes, he was.”

“Why aren’t there any other Mandalorians in this video?” Ben turned to ask Amana.

“There are, to the Duchess’ right. They’re wearing robes and uniforms, though, not armor. Probably because it’s a peace delegation. But those are clan markings on their sleeves.”

Luke was studying her face closely. “Do you recognize any of them?”

Amana was silent for a moment. “I do,” was all she said.

“As a culture, Mandalorians have an extremely broad sense of inclusivity,” Threepio announced to no one in particular. “Adoption is extremely common, and clan membership matters more than blood ties, more so now there are so few of them. By my calculation, Miss Amana, you and Duchess Satine were first cousins once removed on your mother’s side. Mandalorians are matrilineal of course, but if you shared with me your father’s lineage I could also calculate the degree of connection…”

“Another time, Threepio,” Luke said quickly, seeing how stiff Amana’s posture had become. “Another time.”

The Child climbed up into the Mandalorian woman’s lap. Her ungloved hands came around his small waist, the tension in her fingers the only indication of any distress. He cooed soothingly at her.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Han Solo suddenly exclaimed out loud, making everyone in the room jump.

“Sorry.” He cleared this throat and flashed his lopsided grin. “Leia, Luke, don’t you see him?”

“See who?” Leia asked.

“See who?” Ben echoed.

Han laughed again, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa.

“Look to the Duchess’ right, just over her shoulder a bit.”

Leia and Ben both leaned closed.

“Who are we supposed to be…” Ben began, only to be cut off by his mother.

“It can’t be,” said Leia.

“Who?” Luke asked.

Even Amana and the Child had leaned closer now.

“No,” said Leia. But even she sounded a bit unsure. She glanced over her shoulder at her brother. “Luke, come and see. It’s Ben Kenobi.”

“Obi-Wan?” Luke raised his eyebrows. 

“I think Han’s right: he’s a lot younger, of course, but look at him,” Leia urged.

Luke knelt on the floor studying the holovid. The Duchess had stopped speaking now, and the cohort was moving across the balcony, cameras still rolling.

Luke smiled. “It does look like him.”

“The other Ben?” Ben Solo asked.

“The other Ben,” Luke confirmed. “See there, the man with the beard and the Jedi robes?”

“Ha!” Han cried again. “Obi-Wan had a girlfriend! I knew there was more to that crafty old fox than met the eye.”

“Han, you don’t know that,” Luke responded. “He was probably there as a representative of the Jedi, or as a bodyguard, or both.”

“Bodyguard? Sure,” Han snorted skeptically. “He’s practically glued to her side, and his hand never leaves the hilt of his lightsaber. That’s way more than a bodyguard if you ask me."

“Well, I didn’t,” Luke retorted.

Han just laughed again.

The Child glanced from one man to the other, wondering at the sudden sense of tension between the two.

Leia looked at them both and sighed.

“After all these years, does it really matter?” Leia asked them as she got to her feet.

“It’s late: time for children to start getting ready for bed. I think we have time for two stories tonight,” she promised Ben as the child opened his mouth to object.

“Ah, Mom, I’m too old for stories,” Ben fibbed.

His mother went along with it. 

“You may be, but _he_ isn’t.” Leia gestured at the Child, who clapped his small hands in anticipation. 

He loved stories.

R2 shut off the holovid. 

Luke took one last look at where the projection had been a moment before and then got up to start clearing the table. He was careful not to make any eye contact with Amana as he moved.

The Child let Leia pick him up and tuck him in the crook of one arm while she took Ben’s hand with the other.

The last thing the Child heard before they left the room was Han Solo, chuckling to himself.

“Obi-Wan. Ha.”

* * *

The Child had been learning a lot about humans lately.

But he had to admit sometimes their sense of humor escaped him.

Especially Solo’s.

The end.


End file.
